More Than Just a Dream
by SaraBeth
Summary: Eight year old Harry Potter is tired of knowing nothing about his past and his parents. When no one else will tell him anything, he decides to go on an adventure to find out for himself. Will he be successful?


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More Than Just A Dream

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Author's notes: I own nothing, aside from the plot

"For tomorrow, everyone will need to bring in information on their families. We will be making family trees," said Mrs. Weatherbee, Harry's third grade teacher. Harry felt a jolt in his stomach. He always tried to do well in school, despite being teased and bullied by nearly all the other students, especially his cousin, Dudley. But he didn't know anything about his family; his real family. All the Dursleys had ever told him was that his parents were killed in a car crash when he was a year old and that was where he'd received his mysterious lighting shaped scar. He knew that his mum had been his Aunt Petunia' s sister, but other than that, he knew nothing.

"But Harry hasn't got a family!" called out Dudley.

"Yeah, cause no one wants him!" shouted another kid named Sean.

"I'll bet his parents aren't even really dead. I'll bet they just wanted to get rid of him because he's a freak!" shouted a boy called Michael.

"Yeah and we got landed with him and now we've got to take care of him and waste money on him," said Dudley. "That's what my dad says."

"I have too got a family," said Harry, tears stinging his bright green eyes.

"Dead people don't count as family, do they Mrs. Weatherbee?" asked a girl called Vanessa.

"That'll be enough class," said Mrs. Weatherbee finally, with a slight smile that suggested that she might have enjoyed the other students' taunting. Harry frowned. "Look, Harry. You had to have parents at one time, and whether they abandoned you or died or whatever is none of my business, but just find out about them so you can do the assignment." Harry felt anger begin to burn within him, and he glared at his teacher. Suddenly, her short gray hair turned a bright shade of blue. The classroom fell silent, as everyone stared in shock.

"Agghhh! Freak-boy changed your hair color!" Vanessa shouted. The class erupted in laughter. Harry sat with his eyes wide. I couldn't have changed her hair color, he concluded. I didn't _do _anything.

"Harry Potter!" roared Mrs. Weatherbee.

"But ma'am, I didn't do anything," said Harry.

"Don't even try it Mr. Potter. I assure you your parents will hear about this!" The class roared with laughter.

"His parents!"

"I mean your aunt and uncle," said Mrs. Weatherbee, bitterly.

"Mrs. Weatherbee, what have I done wrong? What makes you think I did it?" Harry demanded.

"Well, what other students in class would have..." she trailed off. "Very well. I won't send note to your aunt and uncle this time. But don't let it happen again."

"Let what happen?" muttered Harry, sinking down in his seat. He wanted to get up and run from school. He hadn't turned Mrs. Weatherbee's hair blue, at least not intentionally. And so what if he didn't have parents? He hadn't had them since he was a year old. He couldn't even remember them. It had never bothered him before. In fact, he'd never even given it much thought. But now he realized how little he knew about them. He didn't even know their names. I'll ask the Dursleys tonight, he thought.

Later that evening, just before dinner, he approached Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon with his question.

"Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon?" said Harry.

"Yes, get on with the question," said Vernon impatiently.

"Who were my parents?" Petunia gasped and nearly dropped the frying pan she was using to cook dinner. Vernon began coughing.

"Don't even mention them under this roof!" he choked.

"Well then, sir," said Harry seriously. "Could we please step outside so that I can ask you their names?"

"Don't use that attitude with your uncle!" shouted Petunia.

"What attitude?" asked Harry. "I just want to know who my parents were."

"There's no use thinking about the past," said Petunia sourly. "Your parents are gone. There's no need to go finding out about them. It won't bring them back."

"But please," begged Harry. "It's for school."

"What nonsense!" bellowed Vernon. "Don't talk back to your aunt! One more word out of your mouth, boy, and I swear I'll lock you in that cupboard and throw away the key!"

"But—but you don't understand," pleaded Harry.

"That's it! I've had it with you!" roared Vernon, grabbing the small boy by his arm, dragging him to the cupboard under the stairs and tossing him inside. Harry heard the click of the key turning and locking him inside. He buried his face in his pillow and cried.

Why won't they tell me? He thought. I just don't understand. Why can't I know who my parents were? He could hear the Dursleys sitting down to dinner without him. He was tired of feeling like an outsider in a place that he was forced to call home.

"I wish I could get out of this stupid cupboard," he muttered. "Then I'd go search for someone who could tell me who my parents were." He heard a 'ping' of metal. Startled, he pressed on the cupboard door. It opened with a screech. Harry froze. How had he done that? He wondered. Uncle Vernon mustn't have locked it properly, he concluded. He peered through the tiny opening. The Durselys were nowhere in sight. This is my chance, he thought. It's now or never. The front door was only ten steps away. Only ten steps to freedom. Then he could run away and try to find out about his parents. He pushed the door open a little farther, and it screeched again. Harry slipped his leg through the opening and slid the rest of the way through without opening the door anymore to avoid screeching. He tiptoed quickly to the front door and with a sudden burst of excitement he yanked it open and ran down the front steps and down the sidewalk. 

Without the slightest idea of where he was going, he reached the end of Privet Drive and continued running. Finally, when he felt he was far enough away from the Dursleys, he slowed his pace to a walk. He wandered through the tiny town, wondering where to begin the search for who his parents were. His was still pondering this when he arrived at the train station. Could he take a train? Would he really be able to get away with it? He decided he would try. He didn't have any money, so he slipped onto a train, luckily, unnoticed. He settled himself in an empty compartment and soon drifted to sleep, unaware of where the train was headed.

"Young man?" Harry felt a tapping on his shoulder. He opened his eyes to find an elderly lady seated next to him. She had joined him in the compartment after he'd fallen asleep. "We're nearly there."

"Oh," said Harry, yawning and sitting up, still unsure of where he was. Then he remembered what he had done.

"Aren't you a bit young to be riding the train alone?" the woman asked.

"Oh, no ma'am. I'm eleven," Harry lied, knowing that he was small for his age, which was really only eight. The woman looked at him doubtfully, but didn't say anything else. Harry stared out the window as the train pulled up to Kings Cross Station, in London. A sudden jolt told him the train had stopped. The lady gathered up her things and exited the compartment. Harry followed, wondering what he'd do in London. He exited the train station, and began to walk into the city. The early evening sun shined warm on his back and he felt content somehow. He didn't even give a thought to the fact that he didn't know where he was or how he'd ever go back. He wandered the crowded streets, peering into shop windows and getting shoved to the side by people bustling hurriedly by him. It wasn't long before he passed a most peculiar looking man. He wore a tattered black robe over his sickly looking, stick thin frame, and at the sight of Harry, his eyes widened on his thin, pale, skeleton-like face. Harry got a strangely familiar feeling as he passed this man on the street. 

"Harry! Harry Potter!" he heard a hoarse voice calling from behind him. He tried to turn around, and nearly got trampled by a large lady who had been walking behind him. He shoved his way to the side of the crowd and stood on his tiptoes. He spotted the peculiar looking man, waving his hand in the air.

"Harry Potter!" he called again, fighting the crowd to try to reach Harry. How does he know me? Wondered Harry. He thought of running away, but something told him to meet that man. If he knows me maybe he knew my parents, thought Harry. The man finally reached him.

"Harry, what are you doing here?" he demanded. Harry was taken aback.

"Do—do I know you sir?" he asked.

"No, well, yes, I mean I suppose you did at one time," said the man, fighting to not be shoved away in the crowds of people. "Why don't we go get some ice cream and we can talk. How does that sound?" he asked, a smile brightening up his sickly face.

"Okay," agreed Harry, slowly. The entered a nearby ice cream parlor. The man ordered a sundae for Harry, and nothing for himself. They took a seat at a tiny table in the corner.

"If you don't mind my asking," said Harry. "Who are you?"

"Of course," said the man. "I'm Remus Lupin. You can call me Remus."

"Okay, Remus," said Harry slowly. Why did that name seem familiar? "Er—why are you dressed so funny?"

"Dressed funny?" said Remus, looking puzzled. "Why, because I'm a wizard, Harry."

"A wizard?" asked Harry in fascination. "Wow."

"You mean you haven't..." Remus began, a worried expression spreading across his face. "You don't know..." He trailed off.

"Don't know what, Remus?" asked Harry.

"Harry, you've never heard of—of wizards before?" asked Remus.

"No," said Harry honestly. "Will you tell me about them?"

"Well, I just can't believe... how could you not... James and Lily..." Remus muttered.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know what you're talking about," Harry apologized.

"Oh, it's not your fault, Harry," said Remus, frowning.

"So, well, how do you know me?" asked Harry curiously.

"Well, who doesn't know you, Harry," said Remus thoughtfully.

"What do you mean?" asked Harry.

"Oh, well, I—I was friends with your parents," Remus explained.

"You knew my parents?" exclaimed Harry.

"Of course, I knew James and Lily," said Remus.

"James and Lily?" asked Harry, not recognizing the names.

"You're parents," said Remus. "You didn't know their names?" he asked. 

"No, I don't know anything about them," said Harry. "Except that they died in a car crash when I was a year old, and that's where I got my scar." Remus began coughing.

"Remus? Are you all right?" asked Harry.

"I can't believe this, I can't believe it at all," said Remus. "I shouldn't be telling you this. It's not my place."

"No, no please tell me," said Harry. "Tell me about my parents." Remus sighed.

"I suppose I will," he said slowly. "But first I want you to tell me what you're doing wandering the streets of London alone."

"I—I ran away," he said quickly. "My aunt and uncle, well, they don't like me much. Earlier I asked them about my parents and they got angry. So I ran away to find out about my parents on my own." He looked at Remus and noticed that he was wiping tears from his eyes. "I don't ever want to go back there." Harry finished. "Now will you tell me about my parents?" he asked. Remus drew in a deep breath.

"Well, this is going to take a lot of explanation, but I suppose since you already know this much I can't keep the rest from you," Remus began. "You see, there's a whole magical world of witches and wizards out there. That's where I'm from. Now, ordinary folk, muggles, don't generally know about witches and wizards. Wizards have powers beyond imagination. Especially powerful wizards, Harry. And when a wizard has so much power, he can use it to do either good things or bad. Do you understand?"

"I suppose so," said Harry slowly.

"So, back a while ago, I went to Hogwarts, so did your mum and dad," Remus continued.

"Hogwarts?" asked Harry curiously.

"Wizard school," said Remus, raising his eyebrows. 

"You mean my mum and dad were...?"

"Yes, they were a witch and wizard," said Remus. "Now then, continuing..."

"Then I must be a wizard too!" exclaimed Harry.

"Yes, of course you are," said Remus. "But we'll get to that later. Would you just let me talk now, please." Harry was a wizard. That explained a lot. Like how he'd turned his teacher's hair blue, and how he'd unlocked the cupboard door. And it explained why his aunt and uncle refused to talk about his parents. "So, your dad, mum and I went to Hogwarts with our other friends. But while we were at Hogwarts, a wizard was gaining power. His name was Voldemort, and he used his power to do bad things, horrible things. He gathered followers, and by the time we graduated, he had practically taken over the wizarding world. Things remained that way for a few years. Now your mum and dad were a great witch and wizard, the best in our class. And they were against Voldemort. So..." Remus paused and took a deep breath. "On Halloween night, seven years ago, Voldemort...well, he murdered your parents," Remus' eyes were filled with tears. "And the amazing part is, he tried to kill you too. But you lived Harry, you lived. That's where you got your scar, from when Voldemort tried to curse you. But his curse backfired. And so, you're a hero, Harry. You made Voldemort flee, barely living. And you're famous."

"Me?" said Harry. "But I can't be. I don't even remember."

"I knew this would come as a shock to you," said Remus. "And I'm sorry you had to find out from me."

"It's okay," said Harry, the thoughts of what he'd just learned bouncing around in his head. "So, will I go to Hogwarts?"

"Certainly," said Remus. "As soon as you're eleven." He glanced at his watch. "Well, I've got to be going," he said. "Have you got anywhere to go?"

"I—I don't know where to go," said Harry. "I don't even know my way back."

"Well," said Remus thoughtfully. "Why don't you come with me? I've only got to go to Diagon Alley for a bit. Then I'll take you to Dumbledore. He'll know what to do."

"Who?" asked Harry. 

"Don't worry, you'll find out," said Remus. "Well, let's go." They walked a few blocks as the sun was setting. Finally, they stopped in front of a shabby looking door of a tiny pub. Harry spotted a tiny sign in the window that said The Leaky Cauldron. Remus pulled the door open and Harry followed him inside. As soon as he emerged into the room he felt everyone's eyes on him. There were quiet murmurs among the many witches and wizards seated at tables eating or drinking. Harry paused by one old man who had stood and held out his hand.

"Come along," said Remus, taking his hand and leading him through the staring strangers. "I'm sorry, we're busy." He told the man. They walked to the front of a brick wall behind the pub.

"What are we doing here?" asked Harry. 

"You'll see," said Remus, with a slight smile. He tapped on a few bricks, and Harry stared in amazement as an entryway into a bustling street appeared.

"Wow," he muttered in amazement as he walked through the archway. 

"This is Diagon Alley, Harry," said Remus. "The wizard section of London." Harry stared at all of the buildings in amazement. There was a shop for buying cauldrons, and another for buying wizard pets. There was a bank called Gringotts, and a shop for buying broomsticks. Hundreds of shops lined the sides of the street, selling things more mysterious than Harry could have ever thought of. I must be dreaming, he concluded.

"There's Madam Malkins," said Remus, pointing to a tiny shop with robes displayed in the windows. "That's where you buy wizard robes. Ah, and there's Flourish and Blotts, the book store." Harry saw a large shop with shelves and shelves of books. In the display window he even spotted a book that had large yellow eyes looking at him. "And there's Mr. Ollivanders, the wand shop."

"Wow, can I get a wand?" said Harry excitedly.

"When you're old enough," replied Remus. "But here's where I need to go." They entered the Apothecary. Harry instantly held his nose.

"Ew," he muttered.

"Don't worry," said Remus. "I just need to pick up a few things. Why don't you have a look around?" Harry wandered through the shop, fascinated with the things for sale; dragon's blood, fresh spiders, unicorn horns, wolfsbane, and all sorts of things. 

"Ready to go, Harry?" asked Remus walking up next to him, a parcel in his hand. "I've got just one more thing to show you."

"Okay," said Harry. They exited the shop and continued walking down the street.

"Your father lived in Diagon Alley when he was a boy," explained Remus. "And you wouldn't believe how much you two look alike."

"What was my father like?" asked Harry.

"Well," said Remus. "James was always very smart, friendly, and quite the prankster in his day," he added with a laugh.

"What about my mum?" asked Harry.

"Well, you've got her eyes," said Remus. "She was a very clever witch. Spent most of her Hogwarts days chasing down your father and his friends, including myself, and trying to keep us out of trouble. Not that we did anything that bad," he added quickly. "Just things to make people laugh."

"I wish I knew what they looked like," said Harry sadly. Remus looked thoughtful. He placed his parcel on the ground, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a tattered photograph. He handed it to Harry.

There, smiling up at him, waving, were two people. A man with bright blue eyes and Harry's messy black hair, and a woman with fiery red curls and bright green eyes.

"Wow, it moves," said Harry, amazed. "Can I talk to them? Can they hear me?"

"No," said Remus sadly. "It's only a photograph. It only holds the memory of James and Lily, just like a muggle photograph. It's not actually them."

"Oh," said Harry feeling disappointed. He continued staring at the photograph, at the two smiling faces beaming up at him. "May I have this picture, Remus?"

"Sure, if you'd like," said Remus.

"Wow, thanks," said Harry, carefully placing the photograph in his pocket.

"Here we are," said Remus, stopping in front of a large stone house, decorate elaborately in red and gold.

"This is where your father lived," said Remus. Harry gazed in fascination at the house. My father lived here, he thought. He felt closer to his parents, though he still couldn't remember them. 

"Can we go inside?" Harry asked.

"I'm afraid not," said Remus. "It's long since been sold. Well, we'd better be getting you to Dumbledore now. We'll take floo powder." Harry, having no idea what Remus had just said, followed him as they walked back down the street the way they came. Remus entered the broomstick store, Harry following.

"We're just going to use your chimney," Remus said to a man behind the counter who nodded. "Come along, Harry. I'm going to show you how to use floo powder." He pulled a small box out of his robes and opened it. It was filled with a powdery substance. "Now, you just take a bit of this and toss it into the fire," he said, demonstrating. Then you step into the flames—don't worry they won't burn you—and call out the place you want to go. We'll call out Dumbledore. Now I'll go first, and you follow, okay?" Harry nodded nervously, trying to remember everything.

"Watch closely," said Remus. He stepped forward into the flames. "Dumbledore!" he shouted, and he was gone. Harry looked at the floo powder in his hand. He tossed it forward into the fire. Shaking with nervousness, he stepped forward into the flames. He couldn't feel them. "Dumbledore!" he shouted. He felt himself spinning, faster and faster, catching glimpses of fireplaces flying by. Finally, he stopped at a large fireplace. He peered out and spotted Remus talking to an old man. He emerged from the fireplace. Remus and the man that Harry supposed was Dumbledore were deep in conversation.

"Remus, we had an agreement," said Dumbledore. "He isn't supposed to know about magic until he's eleven. Now, I don't blame you for telling him, I doubt I could have kept the secret myself, but that's beside the point. We've got to put a memory charm on him and send him back to his aunt and uncle where he belongs."

"But headmaster, they didn't even tell him anything! He didn't even know Lily and James' names!" objected Remus.

"When the time comes, he will know," said Dumbledore. "Until then, he will live in the muggle world." Harry couldn't believe his ears. They were going to send him back.

"Please, sir, don't send me back to my aunt and uncle," said Harry. "They don't even want me."

"Well, hello Harry," said Dumbledore, with a twinkle in his bright blue eyes. "Don't worry, when you go back, you'll never even remember you were here."

"But I want to remember," objected Harry. Remus knelt down next to him and put his hand on the small boy's shoulder.

"Harry, this is what's best for you right now, and soon you'll be back here again," he said.

"But I'll miss you," said Harry, his eyes tearing. He threw his arms around Remus' neck. Remus hugged him. "I'll miss you too, Harry. But we've met before, and we'll meet again, I'm certain of it." Harry didn't want to leave, he didn't want to lose the only person who could tell him about his parents and about his past. They said he'd come back someday, but what if they were wrong. He pulled his arms tighter around Remus' neck.

"Come on, Harry," said Remus hoarsely. "You've got to go now." Tears were streaming down both of their cheeks, and Harry was sure he'd even seen Dumbledore wipe his eyes.

"You'll be back again, Harry Potter," he said. "Now stand right here." Harry took one last look at Remus, who nodded and forced a smile, then he obeyed Dumbledore, who pulled out his wand.

"Goodbye for now Harry. Now look at my wand," he said. There was a flash of light.

* * *

Harry awoke in his own bed in the cupboard under the stairs. He peered through the crack in the door and saw sunlight pouring through the windows. It was morning. He thought back to the night before. He remembered Vernon locking him in the cupboard, but that's all he could remember. I suppose I fell asleep right after that, he thought. But he felt as though he had done something else. He thought and thought, but he couldn't remember anything. It was probably a dream, he concluded. But as he stood up he felt something in his pocket. He reached in and pulled out a crumpled photograph of two people. He didn't know where it had come from, but he knew he had seen it before, and he knew the two people smiling up at him were his parents. He turned it over and on the opposite side James and Lily Potter was scrawled in messy handwriting. Harry stared in amazement.


End file.
